


I'm Pretty Sure That's A Synonym

by ThroughTheTulips



Series: I don't think that means what you think it means [6]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alien Biology, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Also these people need a much more detailed Beaconite bio lesson seriously, Daniel Jackson has a secret unfulfilled love of fluffy things, F/M, Kidnapping, Kind of because aliens, Laura is a jerk in this, M/M, Mpreg, Scott is a Good Friend, Sibling Rivalry, Some scary parts in this one but it turns out okay I promise, but it's biology, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:51:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14860082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThroughTheTulips/pseuds/ThroughTheTulips
Summary: The Daedalus is delayed, forcing the gang to stay on Earth longer than expected. Cue wacky adventures, new friends, and a new chapter in the continuing saga of "Don't these people talk to each other ever?"





	I'm Pretty Sure That's A Synonym

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's been a while. We all know this. I just knew where I wanted to end and stuff kept happening before that point and I basically rewrote this about eleven times trying to get it right. Finally I decided just to post it already so I could start the next bit.
> 
> See end notes if you have an issue with blood or violence. It's not bad, I promise.

It was common knowledge in Atlantis that Derek Hale was a worrier. He washed his hands for at least a full minute, packed all his toiletries in individual Ziploc baggies, and carried five pounds more gear than mission standard “just in case”. When Deaton sent him into the field he lived on sealed rations and vitamins as protection against parasites. If he sneezed more than once he’d be in the med bay within ten minutes, convinced he had some weird Pegasus galaxy disease.

The addition of an alien husband and three incoming half-alien children had thrown his anxiety into overdrive. What had been a generalized preference for being prepared became an obsession. Derek spent every spare moment making contingency plans for the most bizarre crises he could imagine. Some high-risk situations had two or three variations. Goa’uld, Genii, leftover Wraith, Ori, rogue Kelownians, catastrophic equipment failure, dying suns- if an SG team had run into it, he had a plan to get his family to safety. He had gear bags stashed all over Atlantis (and even two in the SGC) in case they had to make a hasty exit somewhere. The point was, he was _ready_.

Or so he’d thought.

Now, sitting with his hands tied behind his back while mercenaries patrolled the unfamiliar dirty warehouse, Derek wished he’d remembered that every threat wasn’t alien in origin. Plain old human greed could be dangerous, too.

At least this wasn’t his fault. This whole mess could be laid right at Laura’s feet.

 

They’d planned to be on Earth for maybe a week. The morning after they arrived, though, one of the colony worlds had a severe Gate malfunction and the _Daedalus_ was dispatched to evacuate the stranded colonists. “It really was an emergency,” Sam promised the crestfallen Stiles. “They’re in this galaxy, so we should be able to get them back in two weeks or so.”

Scott flinched. “Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh, what?” Derek said, looking up from the tablet he was setting up. “What’s wrong? Is there something Stiles needs now that he’s shifted that we can’t get here? Because one of us can go through the Gate for it or-”

“No, he’s fine, just…” The caless squirmed, more embarrassed puppy than fully adult healer from a shapeshifting race. “He’s furry.”

Sam, whose hands were buried in said fur mid-belly scratch, grinned. “I noticed. No one here knows he’s a shapeshifter, he can just be a pet. We’ll post guards on your suite and pretend Stiles is secluding himself in there.”

“Yeah, but you’re forgetting, um. Well, you guys don’t have a lot of resistance against…”

Realization hit, and Derek groaned. “He’s _furry_ , the blockers are a paste. They won’t work on him right now,” he said in dawning horror.

“We have some liquid forms we use in emergencies, but honestly they’re not very healthy for late stage pregnancy,” Scott said with an apologetic look at his friend. “He has to be able to communicate when he needs something, and I don’t want to risk this tablet thing being out of his reach. As soon as what he’s got on wears off...”

Sam seemed to just be catching on. “You’re talking about the tenassi pheromones, right?” She sat back on her heels. “I didn’t even think about that, the mission reports said it had been handled. How much of a risk will that be? There are some biohazard containment rooms we could set up as suites.”

Stiles rolled onto his feet, lips pulling back in a sneer. Scott huffed out a laugh. “He doesn’t like the idea of containment. Pregnant tenassi need exercise, it’s instinctual. Running is their only form of defense, so if they don’t feel fit it can stress them out.”

Alarm broke through Derek’s horror. He scooped Stiles up like he could protect him from even the threat of stress. “Okay, so we can’t shut him away and we can’t risk brawls when the kitchen is out of pudding. What can we do?”

There was a long, tense pause before Sam got a thoughtful expression. “I may have a solution. Let me run it by General Landry, all right?”

 

Within twenty-four hours they ended up in the middle of the woods at General “Call me Jack, for crying out loud” O’Neill’s lakeside cabin.

There were more people than the cabin would comfortably fit. Sam and two of her team members came along as security. Plus Laura had taken leave when she learned Derek was stuck on Earth. That made eight adults crammed into a tiny cabin and a room-sized tent Sam had requisitioned. Sam shared Jack’s room (which no one commented on) but the rest of them were relegated to the yard.

Except for Derek and Stiles. They were given a more defensible position on the couch. “No offense,” Jack told Stiles. “But you’re small enough that you two could share it. Teal’c can’t even sit on the couch.”

“It is not strong enough to bear a warrior’s weight,” the imposing alien said from his perch on the sturdiest chair. “I have asked you many times to acquire reasonable furniture, O’Neill.”

“I got you the chair, didn’t I?”

Laura, annoyed that her brother got to sleep inside while she was tent-crashing, snorted. “Derek loves the couch. Plus, he’s used to sleeping with dogs at home so Stiles shouldn’t be a problem.”

Stiles had been sprawled across a delighted Daniel Jackson’s lap soliciting affection. He let out a low growl at Laura’s words. “He’s not a dog,” Derek translated. “He’s your brother-in-law, so be nice.”

“Don’t be so touchy, you know I wasn’t trying to insult you.”

She leaned across to scruff the tenass’ fur, but Stiles slid off Daniel’s lap and stalked outside. The anthropologist looked crestfallen. “I don’t actually get to pet furry things that often. Allergies.”

“He’s here until the ship comes back and he’s the biggest cuddleslut on the planet. You’ll get another chance.” Laura snuck a guilty glance after Stiles. “Is he really mad?”

“Probably. Soulforms are sacred to them.” Derek dug in his side bag for the tablet. “You have to start thinking about these things, Laura. Have you thought that your nieces or nephews might have soulforms? I don’t want that kind of talk around them either way. And don’t call my husband a slut.”

The woman threw her arms up. “I said cuddle- fine, whatever. General, this is a fishing cabin. I assume that means there’s a lake where I can drown myself?”

Jack gestured vaguely towards the back door, still rummaging for spare sheets in a closet. “Drown away. Use my dock, it’ll attract more fish.”

Derek went outside in search of his husband. Stiles was sniffing through a patch of grass, but he trotted over when he saw the tablet. His nose flew over the screen. _Not a dog._

“I know,” the man said soothingly.

_Not a slut. Only yours._

The simple declaration made Derek grin like an idiot. “Stiles, I know. And I’m yours.” He gave in and scratched the furry back. “Laura doesn’t understand, but she’ll get there.”

Stiles huffed but didn’t argue. Instead he raised his head and let out a series of imperious yips. Scott came out of the tent at once. “He wants a run,” the caless told Derek, stripping his shirt off casually. “I can take him. If that’s okay? I’m not trying to cut in on you or anything, just- he’s fast.”

That much was true. Derek could barely see Stiles move when the tenass really cut loose. He bent to kiss his husband’s head. “Have fun. And be careful, there are snakes and probably bears out there.”

“Bears?” Scott seemed to be digesting the translation before brightening. “Oh, we have something like that. No worries, I can protect him.” He unbuttoned his pants. Derek turned his back, cheeks burning, and only turned back around when he heard feet pounding off into the woods.

What was it with Beaconites and naked running, anyway?

 

The days dragged on with no word on when the _Daedalus_ would return. Jack took the invasion of his retirement retreat in good (though snarky) humor, sharing his fishing boat and doing town runs to keep up with the incredible appetite of two Beaconites. Scott fretted over emails from Kira, who was waiting for him back at Atlantis. Laura and Teal’c discovered a mutual love of knitting that had them hunched over skeins of yarn and mysteriously folded projects every day. (Derek suspected at least three were baby blankets, though Laura was elaborately secretive.)

Derek spent a lot of time with Stiles and Daniel, trading knowledge about alien cultures. He couldn’t help the geeky little thrill he felt when Daniel Jackson himself deferred to him as an expert on Pegasus galaxy cultures. Daniel was the entire reason Atlantis had been settled. Meeting him was almost worth being stuck in the woods with bugs and poison ivy and whatever else was hiding behind those innocuous-looking trees. Even better, Daniel treated Stiles like the person he was. When he spoke he addressed the tenass directly and waited for the tablet response instead of craning his neck to read along.

It probably didn’t hurt that Stiles let the anthropologist pet him while they chatted.

As time passed, though, Derek found himself hovering over Stiles everywhere he went. He felt anxious if his husband was out of sight, and the only time he could relax even a little was if he knew Scott was there in his place. Some of the others- Sam and Jack and even Laura to some extent- seemed like some shapeless kind of threat to the visibly growing tenass. The protective pressure built until one day Sam absently scratched Stiles’ ears in passing and Derek snapped, “Watch it, buster.”

She stopped, eyes wide. “Excuse me?”

“Just- I mean…” He really had no explanation for the frustrated outburst. His ears burned. Still, she was a colonel and he was just a civilian contractor, so he tried to find words. “I don’t… it feels wrong when you touch him. My skin itches.”

Stiles let out the rumbling chirp that meant he was pleased. Everyone else just stared. Everyone except Scott, that is. The caless jumped up from where Jack had been teaching him checkers and came over to squeeze Derek’s shoulder. “It’s okay, this is normal!” he said reassuringly. “I didn’t know how much you would feel, but most calessi don’t like people near their ducenti when the times gets near.”

Sam looked a little hurt. “He didn’t mind when Daniel was rubbing Stiles’ belly this morning.”

“Yeah, well.” Scott scratched his nose sheepishly. “I’ve spent a little time with Tau’ri, and I think I can tell you guys apart now. Most of you are pretty near calessi but, um, the ones who aren’t wouldn’t bother Derek. No threat.”

Daniel’s eyes lit with excitement. “You’re saying we have similar pheromones to your people and these are triggering some sort of primitive reaction in Derek? Even though he’s human?”

“He’s close enough to be affected by Stiles’ gramoret. Makes sense to me.” The caless sounded proud, like Derek had done something impressive. Maybe on Beacon this _was_ something impressive. “Only calessi who are family can be close without upsetting him.”

“That can’t be right. I’m family and he almost bit my head off when I gave Stiles bacon earlier,” Laura said. There was an awkward pause while everyone avoided looking at her, and her face fell. “Oh, man. Have I really been that much of an asshole about this?”

Scott shrugged. “If Derek thinks you’re unsupportive, he might see you as a threat to his duca,” he said apologetically. “Sorry. But the important thing here is that we need to send word to your people that Stiles has to stay here a little longer even if the ship comes back. Once Denning starts we don’t have long to wait.”

That took a minute to sink in. When it did Derek’s irritation melted in the face of panic. “No, no, no, all the baby things are on Atlantis!” he said, crouching to run his hands over Stiles’ furry belly. “They can’t come here! We don’t have clothes or diapers or bottles or, or, or a hospital. What if he needs a hospital?”

Stiles twisted to give him an indulgent smirk before aiming his nose pointedly at Scott.

Who was a Beaconite Healer. Literally the most qualified person on the planet to help if something went wrong.

“Look at it this way,” Laura said brightly. “You won’t have any citizenship issues if they’re born on US soil.” She had a point, one Derek hadn’t actually considered. He forgave her a little.

Until she followed that up with, “So should we go into town for supplies or can we throw a few towels in a cardboard box and call it good?”

Stiles was a tough guy, but he was incredibly sensitive to the dog jokes. They went right under his skin. Sometimes he could shrug it off. Others not so much- like now. He gave a low, hurt whine and rolled up to huddle on the couch, shivering a little. Rage instantly boiled under Derek’s skin. He knew- he _knew_ \- that it was micret making him feel this way.

He punched his sister anyway.

Her head whipped back, blood already gushing from her nose. She touched one finger to the flow, then looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “You’re gonna pay for that, Der.”

Derek was big, but Laura was literally a trained killer with years of experience fighting above her weight class. She had him on the ground in less than ten seconds, rubbing two knuckles viciously into his sternum while his head swam from hitting the floor. Suddenly she let go with a curse. Stiles had his teeth sunk just enough into her other arm to dent the skin. Laura drew her hand back as if to shove him away.

A deep, threatening growl filled the cabin.

Scott- sweet, dopey Scott who would talk moonily about Kira and his sadly postponed wedding for hours- was inexplicably a foot taller and covered in thick dark hair. His eyes burned an unearthly backlit crimson. “No,” he said around a mouthful of gleaming sharp teeth that hadn’t been there a moment earlier. “You do not. Hit. Pregnant. Tenassi.”

There was no compromise in his tone at all. A palpable sense of looming disaster filled the room while Laura hesitated, then broke as shame filled her face. She dropped her arm. “I- you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. Hell, maybe the pheromones are getting to me, too. Are you okay, Stiles?”

Stiles ignored her, sniffing frantically at Derek until the man sat up. Only then did he nose the tablet from its perch on the coffee table. “Jerk,” the smooth computerized voice read. “You deserved that. He didn’t.”

“Derek was protecting his duca,” Scott growled. “You were being a scultari. If you acted like this on Beacon he could take you before the Council and have you beaten with straill.”

“Okay, easy, no one’s being beaten with anything.” Keeping his hands where Scott could see them, Jack edged close enough to grab Laura’s shoulder. “Let us handle this. We’ll take Captain Hale into town and have a nice long chat with her, okay?”

The way he said “Captain Hale” suggested that chat would be from the retired general and the colonel, not the amusingly sarcastic fisherman and the physicist who made breakfast most mornings. Even Scott heard it. He seemed to- actually, he _did_ shrink back to his normal height, hair and fangs retreating. His eyes stayed red, though. “A really long chat,” he agreed grudgingly. “I almost shifted all the way. That would have been bad inside.”

Almost shifted, he’d said. Derek realized with a start that while he knew calessi had a larger soulform than tenassi he’d never actually seen one. He wondered if Scott would show him when there was less chance of Laura losing an arm.

Jack and Sam shoved Laura towards the door. “Text me a list of what you need, Dr. Hale,” Sam said over her shoulder. “Anything you even think you might need… your sister’s paying.”

“Keep an eye on the kids, Teal’c,” Jack added. Laura opened her mouth and he smacked a hand over it. “Not a word, Captain. Not a word. Let’s go.”

They marched her to the car between them. Scott didn’t relax all the way until the Jeep drove off with her in it, leaving them with Teal’c and Daniel.

 

Like he said, the whole mess was Laura’s fault.

 

The good news was that Scott had taken Stiles out for their evening run before the mercenaries descended on the cabin. Teal’c put up a good fight and even the scientists managed to hold their own, but there were at least two dozen armed commandos. In embarrassingly short order the three men were tied up and shoved into some kind of truck. One of them said in Russian, “He’s not here. Harris said he’d be with this one.”

“We take what we can get,” another replied dismissively. “They will trade a stranger for their own people. Especially since these two are SG-1.”

The truck door slammed shut. Derek leaned sideways in the sudden darkness, speaking as low as he could over the engine sounds. “This is an inside job. They said-”

“Harris, I heard,” Daniel interrupted. He sounded more annoyed than scared. “I do speak Russian, remember?”

“I do not,” Teal’c said with difficulty. His jaw was still swelling from the blow that had stunned him enough to capture. “Who is this Harris?”

Saying “an asshole” was probably not the right answer. “A chemist who used to be assigned to Atlantis,” Derek told them. “He picked a fight with Stiles and I, um, broke his ribs. And his face. It was how we learned about the micret. Harris tried to get Stiles kicked off the city but Director Deaton wasn’t going to let go of an Ancient-trained engineer. He sent Harris home instead.”

“Sounds like this Harris found a way to get back at you both,” Daniel muttered. He sighed and leaned sideways into Teal’c. “Take my advice and get some sleep. There’s a perimeter alarm that goes to Jack’s phone, but it’ll still be a while before they rescue us. They were probably just leaving the city.”

His absolute, casual faith in his team made Derek’s stomach hurt. He knew his sister loved him but she’d been such a jerk about Stiles that it was hard to have the same confidence in her.

Still. He was with half of SG-1, and SG-1 was famous for getting out of tough scrapes. Derek settled back into a corner and tried to nap.

 

Derek didn’t know what he expected from his first hostage situation, but boredom wasn’t it. They’d been tied to pillars in a shitty rundown warehouse (how did bad guys always find empty warehouses?) and then ignored. It felt like hours passed with no change other than occasional threats from the guards. Derek’s arms hurt, he was thirsty and had to pee at the same time, and he couldn’t stop worrying about Stiles.

Not that he had to. Because Stiles was safe with Scott. Sam would definitely send them back to the Mountain for protection while the SGC organized a rescue. There was absolutely, positively, no need for Derek to-

Something touched his hand. The man closed his eyes, willing it to be a hallucination. No such luck. Hallucinations didn’t have soft fur and cold noses. “I’m going to kill you later,” he said under his breath. Stiles licked his palm and started knawing on the ropes.

“Someone is coming.”

Teal’c’s words made Derek listen hard. A vehicle was pulling to a stop outside the warehouse. “Hey, guys. I guess I missed my invitation to this party, but my guests are inside.”

“You have no authority to bargain, General O’Neill,” one of the men said. His voice oozed smug confidence. “Our message was very clear.”

“Oh, I’m sure it would have been. If it had been sent.” There was a rustling sound, then Russian curses. Jack went on casually, “Your friend there just found out I have this whole area under a rerouter I got from some grey friends of ours. Your video didn’t go any farther than a computer in my basement.”

There was a basement in the cabin? Derek hadn’t seen a basement. He tried to catch Daniel’s eye, but the other anthropologist has his attention fixed on the nearest guard as the one outside spoke again. “It is no matter. We can send a message in person. Plenty of material for a nice, personal effect, you understand? Perhaps an ear, or fingers are classic.”

Derek’s mouth went dry, and Stiles growled. The guard frowned, looking around, as Jack said, “I was really, really hoping you weren’t going to say anything to get him mad.”

“Get who-”

The sound that tore through the air was hands-down the most terrifying thing Derek had ever heard. It was part tiger roar, part wolf howl, and part something un-nameable that made the primitive part of his brain want to hide under a rock. He nearly found a place to pee right then and there. Stiles purred against his hand, though, and he realized the sound must be Scott in his caless form.

Remind him never to piss that guy off.

Gunfire erupted outside, interspersed with panicked screaming. The guards inside seemed torn as to whether to go help or stay where it was safe. While they were making up their minds one of them let out a surprised yelp and disappeared behind a stack of crates. The others turned to face the new threat, yelling in Russian while waving their rifles.

Laura was suddenly behind him. “This isn’t dinner theater, Der,” she said, cutting the last bit of rope with her belt knife. “Let’s go while they’re distracted. Stiles, can you-”

“He has already freed me, Captain Hale,” Teal’c said as he shrugged off his ropes. “Help him with Daniel Jackson. I will take your brother to safety.”

Derek wanted to say he wasn’t a princess to be rescued, but even he could see he was ill-equipped for a caless-vs-gun fight. The screaming outside had died down to scattered whimpers. Now there was more growling and a wet sort of crunching Derek didn’t want to think about too closely.

If this was what one caless could do, it was no wonder the Wraith left Beacon alone.

He followed Teal’c to the side of the warehouse. They hid in the shadow of more crates to watch Stiles and Laura work. The pair had Daniel’s restraints shredded in next to no time. Laura helped him up, and they headed towards the sheltering crates in a crouching run.

The main doors burst open, and suddenly the world slipped into slow motion. Derek watched everything unfold like a bad horror movie, unable to do more than put his hand out helplessly before it was over.

The mercenary leader, limping and covered in blood but with a maniacal gleam in his eye.

Daniel yelling a warning and lunging as the man raised his rifle.

Laura swearing, diving forward like she was trying to steal third base.

The massive, wolf-shaped creature charging after him, impossibly fast but closing its jaws around his waist a second after the spray of bullets.

Stiles’ yelp of pain, echoed by both Laura and Daniel, as all three collapsed to the ground.

A formless buzzing filled Derek’s ears. He shook free of Teal’c’s hand and sprinted towards the fallen figures. Dimly he was aware of the sudden silence, of Sam running out from somewhere to slide Daniel off the pile, but he couldn’t process any of that right now. He dropped to his knees by Laura’s side, terror kicking up a notch when he landed in blood. Her blood, he realized as he saw the glistening wound on her back. Derek swallowed hard. “Laura? Are you-”

She groaned. “Alive? Shit. I’m fine, but check him. I don’t know if we were fast enough.” The woman half-rolled over to reveal a badly-shaken Stiles, his only injury hurt pride from being tackled by two humans. His luxurious fur was puffed out on end like an angry cat. He looked ridiculous.

He looked like the most beautiful thing on the planet.

Derek scooped the tenass into his arms and kissed everything he could reach while Stiles purred like a madman. “Don’t you ever, ever do that again,” he ordered fiercely. “You could have been killed! The kits could have been-”

“Derek.” Scott put a hand on his shoulder. The caless was in that weird half-shifted shape, so drenched in blood that he didn’t even look naked, and his voice was tense. “Look.”

The linguist glanced over, puzzled, then nearly had a heart attack. Daniel and Laura lay half slumped over each other, both pale and bleeding while Sam tied wads of gauze against ominously large holes in their sides. Teal’c was pulling more supplies from an army trauma bag.

Atlantis made everyone take basic first aid. Derek knew that was too much blood for either of them to be losing, especially this far from a hospital. A new fear clutched at his heart. He set Stiles down gently and crawled as close as he could without getting in the way. “You said you were fine.”

Laura half-opened her eyes to grin weakly. “I lied. Is Stiles okay?”

“Good, he’s great. I mean I don’t have an ultrasound or anything but he seems okay.”

“Awesome. Hey Jackson, did you hear? We’re big damn heroes.”

Daniel lifted a hand enough to wave. “Yay us. Also, ow.”

The woman turned her attention to Scott, still grinning. “Think this is enough that I can pet Stiles again? Because taking a bullet for someone is literally the opposite of a threat.”

Stiles squirmed up next to her. He nuzzled her arm, chirruping until she laughed. The laugh turned into an awful wet cough. Blood welled up around the bandage Sam was holding to her stomach, and the colonel’s mouth tightened. Sam gave him a look that told him everything he needed to know but said only, “We don’t have enough bandages for both here. Give me your shirt, would you?”

Daniel had a resigned expression on his face. “Sam, stabilize her first. I mean it,” he added fiercely when she started to argue. “I know who’s waiting for me, remember? Anyway, it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve died.”

“It could be the last,” his teammate protested. “I’m not choosing. We can save both of you.”

“No.” Scott’s voice was level, matter of fact. “You can’t. But I can, maybe.”

Stiles scooted backwards to look at his friend with big eyes. He wasn’t the only one. “You’re a Healer,” Derek said, hardly daring to hope. “Do you have some kind of- of power that can save them?”

“Not like you’re thinking.” The caless crouched between the injured humans. He seemed older, more assured, like the dedicated physician was peeking through the cheerful bro façade. “We don’t have magic powers, but… Grandmother wanted us to live. She gave all of us a way to reproduce. Tenassi can carry. Lossalon can switch usions if they’re the only ones in the area. Calessi…” His red eyes fixed on Daniel, who seemed to be struggling for breath. “You don’t have time for me to explain. Do you trust me?”

 _With what?_ , Derek wanted to ask. None of this made sense. How could reproduction save anyone? Maybe near-death made people more philosophical, though, because Daniel and Laura spoke at once.

“Yes, I trust you.”

“Bring it on, Cujo.”

Scott tilted his head, puzzled. “My name is Scott, remember?”

Laura snickered. “It was a joke. Cujo is- ow, fuck!”

The Beaconite had darted forward and sank his teeth into her shoulder. She screamed, kept screaming as her body started convulsing. Daniel jerked in surprise, moving feebly to get away, but Scott put a restraining hand on his chest and bit him too. The anthropologist let out a shocky gasp as he also began shaking.

“What the hell, Scott?” Sam scrambled to her feet and reached for her gun. Stiles snatched it, dashing from the room with his tail high while Teal’c gave chase.

Derek didn’t know who to follow. Laura gave another shiver and went limp, and he studied her face anxiously. Her face was paler than before. Somehow, though, she seemed to be breathing easier. “Is that what’s supposed to happen?” he asked Scott. “Did it work?”

“What was that?” Sam watched Daniel fall into the same unconscious state. She didn’t sound very friendly. “Because werewolf or not if you just killed my friend-”

“We aren’t werewolves,” Scott said, swiping a hand across his mouth. His eyes still burned red even as the teeth and sideburns melted away. “And I didn’t kill them. If they reacted like this, that means it worked.” His certainty faded suddenly, taking the red with it, and he looked as young as he really was. “Probably? No one really does this unless it’s an emergency, or our gene pool gets too thin. Stiles’ grandpa did once and Naya’s still around, so we can ask her.”

That wasn’t very reassuring. “Ask her what?” Sam demanded. “Don’t you know what happens next?”

The caless had one hand on each of the unconscious bodies. Derek could see the possessive edge to his body language growing stronger every minute. “They have to come to Beacon with me,” he said firmly. “At least while they go through runarol and we know, um. You know, what we’re dealing with.”

“What you’re dealing with?” she repeated. “You’re going to want to explain that a little better, Scott. I’m still not convinced I shouldn’t be hauling you back to the SGC and putting you behind bars.

Derek was pretty sure that was a hollow threat. What kind of bars could hold the beast that had burst in here five minutes ago? Scott diplomatically didn’t mention that. Instead he said, “I mean I don’t know what their usions are going to be once they change.”

“Once they _what_?” Her voice went high and strangled.

“No, this makes sense,” Derek said, exhilarated by the thought that he might not actually lose his sister today. “We’ve run into Ancient technology that caused transformations in people before, right? If Grandmother really wanted to give all the Beaconites a way to sustain their species, she would have had the tools to do it.” He brushed Laura’s hair from her face. The bleeding had already stopped, though she didn’t react to his touch. “Colonel Carter, I think he bit them to give them the Beaconite healing abilities. I think they’re going to be okay.”

Sam sat back on her heels, bewildered but also starting to get excited. “Wait, so all those Russians out there are going to change?”

Apparently eye-rolling was a Beaconite gesture too. “Well, I have to do it on _purpose_ ,” Scott huffed. He curled a hand over Laura’s neck, and that she leaned into a tiny bit. “We don’t just go around biting people for fun. It’s a commitment. I wouldn’t have done it now if- but they saved Stiles, and they saved his kits, and maybe we aren’t like, traditional, but I’m still his Comus and I _owed_ them.”

There were way too many untranslatable words being thrown around. Derek was going to have to ask about that later. Right now, though, he had other priorities. Slowly- because Scott was still covered in blood and the memory of his horrifying full shift was still fresh- he wrapped his arms around the younger man. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “Thank you for rescuing us, and for saving my sister. If there’s any way I can repay you-”

“Dude, no, you’re doing it.” Earnest brown eyes met his, intent on making the point. “I’ve never seen Stiles so happy. He’s basically- I mean he’s so smart but really awkward on Beacon, like you have no idea. We were all kind of worried he’d never find a mate, let alone a duca. Then he met you and you just accept him how he is.”

That made Derek’s ears burn. “I think he’s perfect how he is.”

Scott made a face like he was looking at a newborn kitten. “Aw, man, he feels the same about you. You should smell how he-”

“Hey, Carter.” Jack poked his head through the destroyed door. “Can I get a hand out here?”

She stood, all business. “With what?”

“It’s Stiles. He’s, uh.” The man glanced over his shoulder, looking frazzled. “Well, it looks like he’s having puppies in the back of my Jeep. If you don’t want to miss the miracle of life you’d better get over here.”

Scott hopped up, all excited Healer again, then looked back at Laura and Daniel with an agonized expression. Sam took pity on him. “I’ll watch them,” she promised, finally smiling again. “Go help your friend.”

The caless ran off in a blur. Derek followed as fast as he was able, thinking to himself that of course this was when Stiles went into labor. Of course. Derek’s life was insane. It made no sense anymore, and he’d stopped expecting it to. In the last four hours Derek had gotten into a fistfight with his sister, been kidnapped by Russians, realized his alien friend was sometimes a sci-fi worthy beast monster, had a moment of sheer terror thinking his husband and children had been shot, seen his sister nearly die, and discovered that Beaconites were a little closer to werewolves that they were ever likely to admit. If he wrote a book about this the editor would say it was too crazy to be believed.

Sitting crammed into the cargo space with Stiles, rubbing his stomach encouragingly while holding the tiny furry body (that was his _daughter_ , holy _shit_ ) Derek decided that normal was overrated.

Besides, watching Laura go through Beaconite puberty was going to be hilarious.

**Author's Note:**

> Some characters are kidnapped by baddies. There are mild descriptions of violence in here. It's mostly gunshot wounds plus a more violent situation which happens offscreen (the characters hear it). People are hurt in ways that only the Bite can fix, though I kept the details to a minimum.


End file.
